Starkindler (MechaVerse Series Book 1)

by Jeremy Cunkle

  Ivanov’s statement hung in the air with an oppressive finality as General Akari sighed loudly in exasperation at how poorly the academic was able to read his audience. Continuing as if nothing had happened, Ivanov dropped more bombshells for them. “Our forces in the field are powerless to defend themselves against a unit that has more properties in common with a ghost then a military war machine.”

  Closing his hand above his slate as if grabbing the image on the screen, Ivanov flicked it onto the far wall where the picture updated to reflect the change. The angle was from the point of view of one of the Slayers in the main assault force looking up out of the canyon they were trapped in, just before the terrorist unit collapsed the walls of rock around them, thereby damning up the pass and trapping the assault force.

  “The shots fired were from nearly two miles away and came from a much higher elevation. They took place in a high wind, low-visibility environment against moving targets. This is all the more remarkable considering that the terrorist unit used a conventional slug-based weapon. That level of accuracy for that type of weapon in those circumstances rates the absolute highest skill level, technically only achievable with considerable help from advanced technologies. We recovered parts of the shell used, a tungsten core wrapped in carbon fiber for increased aerodynamics, a projectile based slug possessing a simple yet highly effective kinetic kill capability as you can see from the results.” The image changed to a video showing drone footage panning over of the canyon post battle, zooming in on the hardly recognizable remains of Mech armor from the failed operation.

  The video had a sobering view on even Ivanov who then sat back down. The third man remained silent, watching, taking everything in. SSgt Anderson was forced to re-evaluate the man, suddenly concluding the man was a spook. Unable to say exactly what led him to the conclusion, once the realization hit he realized the explanation fit. He was unsure why General Akari had allowed one of the vipers onto the base, let alone one that seemed reluctant to share information.

  SSgt. Anderson opened his mouth to say something in order to prod the spook into revealing himself as well as the reason why he had been allowed to attend, when General Akari stood, drawing all eyes to him. “As the second engagement occurred in close proximity to the squadron of retreating StormCrows, it is the belief of the intelligence division that the unknown terrorist unit has some sort of connection with that faction.

  “Whether or not that means this unit was created by the terrorists or simply working with them is unknown at this time. As our materials specialist suggested, the unit we are up against possesses abilities that are far more advanced than anything we have previously seen the terrorists deploy, suggesting that they were not the originators of the unit’s construction. Previous information suggests the possibility that the unknown unit arrived from off planet, implicating Titan as the only real player able to deploy such an effective unit as the Earth forces do not construct their Mech armor in any kind of similar manner. More remains to be seen: whether this unit is a proof of concept for a new style of machine Titan or the terrorists are building, or simply the vanguard of more to come. Regardless, this unit is to be considered as extremely dangerous, with a high-priority being placed on locating where it is hiding as well as learning what its capabilities are should this be but the beginning of a new threat.”

  General Akari sat back down as the third man stood up and began speaking without an introduction. “Based off evidence we have collected in collaboration with help from your sources in the field, we know this machine came from Earth. However, due to the degree of sophistication unlike anything ever seen before, we believe that there may be more sources than we can initially see contributing to bringing this particular machine to interfere here on Mars.

  “That being said, while this particular unit has linked up with the terrorist group known as the StormCrow Brigade, we continue to view the unit as an outside force. Whether this particular terrorist faction called for reinforcements and a single machine arrived, or whether this is a test model they created we cannot say. We also don’t know if this particular unit is simply an independent unit acting in such a manner as to create mass disruption. The high degree of sophistication of this unit suggests that mass production is not an option.

  “Additionally, we are not aware of any reason why that particular terrorist faction received the machine, versus one of the more powerful factions that would make more sense, such as the WinterSong or Lazarus cells. At this time, there are no other factions receiving or building similarly capable units, from Earth or other planets. The StormCrow Brigade used to be a powerful faction, but their relevance has faded, leaving us with more questions than answers.”

  * * * * *

  As the unnamed and utterly useless liaison for military intelligence took his seat, General Akari could not but help shivering as if he felt someone walk over his grave. He had waited ten years for his sins to catch up with him. He could not help but wonder if they finally had. He was well-aware of the personal role he played in creating the man who had been his worthy opponent for years now; the man who had founded the StormCrows, and the man who it seemed now commanded the most powerful Mech armor on Mars.

  The fact that Ultor’s forces were now depleted and their power had waned had only to do with his unbending determination to defeat the PDF. No major faction had been as eager too directly engage the PDF as the StormCrow Brigade, let alone year after year. General Akari knew first hand that Ultor was a brilliant Commander and charismatic leader whose forces had time and again gotten the best of him and his many predecessors, whom he had replaced because of their failure to contain Ultor’ s Crows.

  Only through attrition and the nearly suicidal drive possessing Ultor to destroy the PDF had the StormCrow Brigade slowly come undone; men and women wanted to see victory with their own eyes, not become endless martyrs for a madman hell-bent on revenge regardless of how righteous his cause. And so, Ultor’s well of new recruits slowly dried up despite his endless victories, and with them, his ability to influence matters on the ground.

  General Akari spent the last few years learning everything he could about the commander of the StormCrow brigade, knowing first-hand why the man’s rage served as a crux threatening to ignite everything around him. Their history and their fates had been linked for years now. Over a decade ago, he had been captain of a Mech armor brigade forced to participate in a terrorist suppression mission. High Command sent his brigade underground into one of the more remote mines; unknowingly targeting the one Ultor lived in, who at the time was just an average citizen trying to go about his daily life and care for his small family, as well as several thousand other mining families doing likewise. The only crime the people living underground committed was that they created an unsanctioned school to teach their children after petitioning the central government to provide such basic resources for years, farms to provide their families with food because the government supplies were irregular at best, and a stable society to live in while they worked the mines.

  The mission had simply been intended to intimidate the locals who had foregone the oversight of the Corporate Congress that all but abandoned them. Their orders were to smash a few of the illegal buildings, burn the illegal farms, kill a few leaders, and then leave. Typical orders in that day and age of rising insurrection. No one could have imagined what ended up happening though.

  One of the pilots within the strike force was a drunken, power hungry, rabid fool named Daegot. He was the special pet of one of the enforcement battalions, known as a particularly efficient killer with an insatiable bloodlust. High-Command transferred Daegot into their brigade hours before the mission commenced. The infamous pilot remained silent in his Strident until an hour after their unit arrived at the mine and the roundup began.

  Foot soldiers attached to the Mech armor brigade were in the process of rounding up insurrectionist leaders when Daegot suddenly opened fire without any warning. First, he murdered the assembled leaders
before heedlessly continuing the wholesale slaughter, destroying everything in sight. The miners tried to run when the massacre began, but there were very few places for them to hide as everything happened without warning. Within minutes, hundreds lay dead as the city they built underground, only after being repeatedly ignored, burned. The destruction did not stop there; Daegot then destroyed the cities primary airlock to the surface as well as the backup system before exiting through the gaping hole. A Chimera sat outside, collected his Strident and left the rest of the armor brigade behind.

  With the air lock destroyed and the negative pressure from the surface drawing out their atmosphere, the miners died in droves. In the end, close to two thousand civilian’s died, among them, Commander Ultor’ s wife of nearly thirty years who had been in the underground city when it burned to the ground. Ultor and his daughter lived because they were checking on a distant field far from the main underground population dome when the massacre occurred. They rushed back to find nearly all of their friends and family dead, and the PDF as the cause. That was the moment that Commander Ultor had been re-born, sworn to his cause with vengeful fury; that was the moment that an unquenchable fire ignited in his chest, and that was the moment that Akari first became afraid because a good man found a reason to kill.

  I have become darkness,

  That others might see light.

  -- Mikkhael Dreyfus

  Chapter 12 – Destiny

  “Those who would wrap themselves in darkness,

  Wearing it about them as if a cloak,

  Must not then turn in fear when the demons hidden therein

  Walk amongst mere mortals”

  ~ Mikkhael Dreyfus ~

  After spending two days in the medical ward, Mikkhael found himself being rudely brought to consciousness by a reticent Dr. Hesken. His body ached from being neglected for so long. The protracted missions he performed in the cramped cockpit in combination with the days of bed rest that followed were taking a toll on his physical health. He made a mental note to perform more physical activity when back underneath the mountain and then promptly forgot about it.

  Caffeine pills, a lengthy shower he justified by using the previous several days’ water allotment at once, changing into a clean uniform that magically appeared while he showered, were all followed by a hearty meal. A sense of what it meant it meant to be human slowly returned throughout the process. He attempted a quick meeting with Chief Engineer Sir Henry Thorsten; they were beginning to understand one another quite well. Thorsten would never admit to it, but he thrived under the challenges faced with maintaining the super-advanced Starkindler.

  Already, lessons learned from working on Starkindler were being applied to how MARS units were built and serviced. While direct technology transfer to the StormCrows was prohibited in order to avoid starting an arms race the PDF would almost certainly win, there was still plenty of inspiration to be taken for the maintenance crews in how the team back on Earth built and serviced Starkindler. So far, the technicians had only needed to perform the most basic types of repairs, and Aurora locked them out of anything more advanced. To date, they spent the majority of their effort manufacturing the munitions that Mikkhael used up at a profligate rate along with replacing the ablative coatings on the external armor.

  That was until this last mission. Now the maintenance teams were being forced to install for the first time new armor plates recovered along with the supply pod, as well as making significant repairs to interior sections. The extra parts the supply pod carried were almost entirely used up, and they needed to fabricate new pieces.

  As payment for their work, the StormCrows were given use of the fabricators during any downtime to manufacture armor for their MARS units in a quarter of their previous manufacturing time. The fabricators created plates of significantly higher quality armor, as well as served to increase interoperability between their different models by applying a modular nature between each of their different classes. Increasingly, armor plating created for a Justice could also be fitted onto a Fury and vice-versa, decreasing the number of man-hours spent performing repairs by a magnitude of nearly six. For the first time in years, Mount Olympus began fabricating their first brand new MARS units, scrambling to find additional pilots for the new units currently in production.

  “She will be ready in the morning then?” Mikkhael asked Chief Thorsten. Needing to move, he found himself walking on auto pilot down to the maintenance hangar in which Starkindler was the lone occupant. During his recovery, the technicians moved the Mech armor to a custom maintenance bay that could accommodate the machines sheer size. They finished preparing the hangar the previous day, just in time for him to return needing their help more than ever. Adjoining the fabricators, the custom bay was ideal for the amount of work required after the significant damage incurred during the most recent battle.

  When he arrived in the hangar, he felt lost and out of sorts. Immediately bumping into Chief Thorsten did not help him orient, the engineer had been working on Starkindler through the entire day, preparing it for the fight to come against the forward operating base, irritable about racing against the clock. Together, they quickly went over the status of the repairs taking place, the Chief rapidly firing off statuses as quickly as possible, obviously eager to get back to work. A technician walked up to them with a question for the Chief who welcomed the interruption.

  “Aye. Before first light. Go get some rest boy. Fretting gets nothing done, and you’re in the way here.” The Chief dismissed Mikkhael with hardly a glance and then turned back to directing the maintenance crews, shouting unnecessary commands in an overt display of being busy.

  He walked halfway back to his personal quarters before realizing that he was so tired he had not even argued with the Chief’s assessment of his capabilities. Before leaving for Mars, he had been highly involved in the design, testing, and manufacturing of Starkindler. No one knew how to service it better than him except Kyril. However, the Chief had not been referencing his skill, but rather more aptly his physical and mental ability to contribute in his current state.

  Taking the reprimand for the guidance that it was intended as, he headed off to a destination that he had been meaning to investigate for some time, needing to find a quiet place to relax and re-charge mentally before heading back out tomorrow. The last corridor before his personal quarters, Mikkhael turned the blind corner sharply and nearly knocked Eve over.

  She cursed reflexively, immediately beginning to verbally tear apart whatever unsuspecting asshole just assaulted her. Upon seeing who nearly knocked her over, she balled her fist and threw a punch at Mikkhael’s surprised face without any hesitation.

  Miraculously, a growl from his silent guard that suddenly appeared from nowhere was enough to force Eve to halt the punch that had crossed nearly all of the distance to his face, which had not moved at all to avoid the assault. “Not enough for you that you take advantage of us out on the Tharsis plain finding your dumb lost ass, but now you have the Crows out acting as your decoys tomorrow so that you can go play hero? Well screw you. All a ‘hero’ ever does is get those around him killed, remember that asshole.” She stalked off around a corner before Mikkhael could even think of a reply, confused as ever whenever he ran into the Commander’s fiery daughter.

  Standing in the middle of the hallway with the recent events still replaying in his mind, he searched for what she had said that especially bothered him. Like usual lately, he was at a complete loss for words. Something she said bothered him deeply. With a start, the pieces shifted around in his mind until he realized what it is. He did not ask for the StormCrows or anyone else to provide him with a decoy, which meant Aurora had. He stormed into his quarters so quickly the hydraulic door barely opened in time, even though it automatically sped up in an attempt to accommodate his speed. Her duty done, the guard stood patiently waiting for him to make a decision, and then wisely remained outside of the room once he did so, her job done for now.

  He di
dn’t bother keying the terminal in his room; instead he just spoke aloud knowing she would hear. “Aurora, what the hell were you doing, using the StormCrows as a decoy?”

  Her hologram shimmered into existence. Projectors were placed throughout the mountain base in any area where she might occasionally be called upon. She skipped the prelude, a sure sign of trouble. “The numbers are clear; your survivability tomorrow is in doubt without a decoy force. The StormCrows are the best fit for both yourself and the situation at hand. That is, of course, if you continue handicapping yourself during battle the way you have been.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mikkhael snapped.

  A shimmer of green, then Aurora stepped forth entirely from the projector set within the wall that occupied nearly a third of the far wall in his quarters. This was the first time that he had ever seen her perform the stunt, forcing him to take a few steps back to accommodate her sudden full presence. Standing nearly as tall as his 6’3’’, arms crossed, with her dress swirling as if blown by a strong unseen wind, she made for an intimidating sight. Her brow creased in barely restrained fury, while her physical presence proved unnerving in every sense. Even though he was a couple of inches taller than her bare-footed self-representation, she still managed to appear as if she was looking down her nose as she lectured him.

  “Do not play dumb with me, you are better than that. I know you better than you know yourself. Simply put, you do not trust Starkindler, or me for that matter, to the same degree you did when practicing in the simulator back on Earth. Your lack of confidence in yourself and us causes you to hesitate that half of a second that is the critical difference between life and death. You are failing to see the battlefield with your own senses, relying on me to hold your hand and show you every step of the way!”